


Lighter fluid

by imsfire



Series: Jyn Week 2018 Prompts [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Cassian only appears at the other end of a commlink, Gen, Jyn Appreciation, Jyn and K2 working together, Rated for swearing, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, for Jyn week 2018, sloppy Imperials getting their comeuppance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: Jyn and K-2 work to create a diversion for a mission.





	Lighter fluid

**Author's Note:**

> I don't imagine this kind of sloppiness would be acceptable in an average military base (& sincerely hope it isn't, for that matter!). But I've worked in organisations where the "not my job to do that, nothing to do with me, let someone else get in trouble for it" attitude was endemic, enough to know how invidious, and how easy to fall into, that particular kind of workplace culture can be. And the Empire is exactly the kind of environment where I can imagine it running rife at lower levels.

“What’s that?”

DO22L4 pointed with the barrel of his blaster rifle and CL1P55 turned automatically to look.  And it was something, alright.  Movement; something stirring and rustling in the mess of leaf litter and other detritus piled up between two storage bunkers.

The mess that should never have been permitted to be there at all.  Everyone knew the regs, but no-one kriffing applied them.

“Look at that,” he said sourly. “Honestly, the crap they let accumulate here, it’s a disgrace.”

“Wouldn’t happen at home,” Clips agreed. “These Rimmies got no sense of pride.” He moved across towards the mound of rubbish.  “Bet it’s another stinking nuna.  Someone oughter call in a pest removal team.”

He peered at the rubbish in the gap, fully expecting to see a small creature scuttle away into the undergrowth at the foot of the perimeter fence.  Undergrowth that also had no business being there; but it wasn’t his job to pull weeds, that was for local contractors.  Not a task for the strong hands of the Empire’s crack troops.

He gave the heap of dead leaves and litter a desultory kick, and leaped back, raising his gun hastily.  His boot had connected with something unmistakably solid, and now a whole section of the trash pile was moving, as with a bleary grunt of pain a small human pulled themselves out of the gap on their hands and knees, and blinked up at him.  “Whh - ?  Ugh, what?  Fuck!” Dishevelled hair hung in tangles across a pugnacious, grimy face.

“On your feet.  Get up, you, come on!”

The human staggered unsteadily upright.  Small, dirty, with grubby hands clutching a large bottle of oily-looking fluid.  The local hooch, greenwater; he’d heard about its potency. 

“Whassa matter?” demanded the squalid figure. “I din’t do ‘nything.  Jus’ sleepin’.”

“On an Imperial airbase.  How’d you get in here, low-life?”

The low-life raised their bottle for a swig and then seemed to think the better of it.  “Huh?  Walked.  I always walk.  ‘S good for you.”  The voice was low and hoarse and, on balance, probably female.

“Just arrest him and get on with it,” suggested Dozzler from three paces back.

“Her, I think,” Clips told him. “Hey, low-life scum, what are you, boy, girl?”

“Fuck you,” said the small human, flailing with the bottle.  The sour green liquid splashed out onto the side of a pile of wooden crates.   

The gesture might have been aggressive or merely illustrative; either way, Clips had had enough of this noisome runt.   “Right, that’s enough.  Trespass, abusing an officer, and attempted assault with a deadly weapon.  You’re under arrest.”

Surprisingly, the grumpy person blinked again and then acceded with no more fight than another curse.  Woman; it had to be a woman, he was pretty sure could see curves under the ill-fitting clothes.  A bulky tight-fastened coat, dirty canvas pants that looked like the bottom half of a set of overalls.  No way that he was going to look any closer.  Locals got no pride indeed.

They placed themselves on either side of the drunk and marched her towards the guard post.  The bottle trailed in her hand, leaking a stream of greenwater as she shuffled miserably along.

Good thing helmet filters kept out so much these days.  Chances were that she stank to high heaven but all Clips was getting was an occasional waft of sickly smell from the drink.  Not even hooch, by the odour, but something like accelerant or lighter fluid.  He liked a drink at day’s end as much as the next soldier, but ugh, the shit some sentients would consume to get happy was revolting.  How low could a person sink...

It was a relief to see one of the Enforcer team appear, loping across the open parade ground, on a tangent to them but in line to cross their path.  They still had a perimeter check to complete; it would be good to hand this bit of trash over.  He raised his voice. “Hey, you, droid!  Come here!”

The droid – it was one of the old KX series, never Clips’ favourite with their unnaturally-long reach and perma-sulk faceplate design – stopped in mid-stride and turned a gleaming stare on the patrol.  It paused almost long enough for insolence before changing direction and moving up to take orders.

“Take this low-life in and have the Sergeant book her for trespass.  Trespass, assault, abusive behaviour and public drunkenness.”

Droid and small human eyed one another.  “That’s quite a rap sheet,” the droid said “for a midget.” It sounded downright amused.  Which was absolutely not possible, it was only a fucking droid after all; but damn, he’d be glad when they finally phased the KX-series out, nasty uncanny things.

“Fuck you,” said the hobo.  “Norra midget.  Fuck you!”

She started flapping the bottle around again and the droid batted it casually from her hand.  It sailed through the air and shattered at the foot of the nearest structure, a compressed gas holder three storeys high.  That would be fun for someone to clean up, half a bottle of some filthy soak’s brain-poison spilled over what was to all purposes a building-sized bomb.  Nice job, but not his or Dozzler’s. 

Clips prodded the little woman with the tip of his weapon. “Watch what you’re doing, you scummy tramp.”

She started to say something, probably another string of curses, but the droid had dropped a huge metal hand onto her shoulder and she broke off, a look of real shock suddenly emerging on her face.  She struggled and subsided with an emotional sob.  “Din’t do anything!  Body’s gorra righta sleep somewhere.”

“Not here they haven’t.” The droid pulled her away. “I am taking you to imprison you.  In prison.”

“Fuck you!” The hoarse voice was shaking now. “Fuckin’ tin pig!”

The droid frogmarched her away.

Clips and Dozzler exchanged a glance.  “How the hells did she get in?”

“Who knows?”

“Better report it.  Someone should check that crappy old fence.”

“Yeah.  And clean up her shit.  Low-lives like that are disgusting.  Few weeks of Voluntary Labour’ll shake her sorry tail.”

“Yeah.  Send ‘em all to Wobani, I say.” Dozzler turned away. “Come on, back to business.  Perimeter won’t patrol itself.”

**

The KX droid marched smartly round the corner, escorting a sullen woman out of the base.  She was empty-handed, wearing only a hastily-grabbed parka hanging open over a set of grimy coveralls. “This individual is a member of the cleaning staff.  She has been fired and is being escorted off the premises,” it told the Corporal on duty.

The Corporal had just reached Level Eight on his data-pad game.  The Underground Maze; he’d been looking forward to getting this far.  Lots of little animated rebs to shoot up.  Droid and delinquent cleaner were waved through into the rough-and-ready service town beyond with barely a glance.

At the junction of the first alley, they turned off the main strip, and vanished from view.

**

“Sweet Force alive, this is a sloppy outfit,” Jyn said. “He didn’t even ask what I’d done to lose my job.”

“I had a detailed backstory prepared,” K-2 told her. “Suspected theft of kaf and tea supplies and stationery items.  Maybe I can use it another time.”

“Just please don’t keep saying you’re going to _imprison me in prison_.  You’re lucky I didn’t laugh out loud.”

“Just keeping you sharp and on your toes,” Kay retorted.  “And given that _tin pig_ was the best you could do, Jyn, it’s a good thing I’m not _able_ to laugh.”

He bent to prise open the side panel of their parked speeder and extract a concealed package.  Jyn was already shucking the parka and coveralls.  She stuffed quickly them into the space and took the quadnocs and blaster he handed over.  “Would you give me a hand up, please?  I need the high vantage point.” She nodded towards the adjacent outhouse.

Once up on the flat tiled roof, she wormed forward to the edge on her belly and scanned the open base below.  The parade ground and most of the far perimeter were visible.  There was no sign of disturbance.  A few ‘troopers going about their business, a few more idling around the mess or at the doorway of a long accommodation block.  Splashes of spilled liquid still gleamed wetly in places, on walls and storage bunkers, scatterings of rubbish, the occasional patches of sere grass.  She grinned as she set down the quadnocs and picked up the Blas-tech. “Still can’t credit how sloppy this lot have gotten,” she remarked. “Saw would have thrown anyone that careless out on their arse.  If he was in a charitable mood.  Broken bones if he wasn’t…”

She took aim at the small gap where she’d hidden earlier.  Dry leaves, old rags, crumpled bits of waste-flimsipaper; and now a good soaking of lighter fluid.  A trail of the same stuff, drips and dribbles, right the way to the gas holders.

“You can comm Cassian now if you’d like.  Tell him he’s about to get his distraction.”

A wall of fire, and an explosion big enough to draw every eye and occupy every pair of hands on the base and in the town, for a good spell of time.  Cassian and the team would have exactly what they needed. 

There was a crackle from the hand-held comm and Kay said “In position and standing by, Cassian.” Another, answering crackle, and a familiar voice, one that always made her smile even when it was too faint to make out words.

“He says to tell you, light it up,” Kay relayed to her.  “He’s fond of that phrase,” he added.

“So am I,” Jyn said, and fired.


End file.
